The golden retriever lying by the side of the highway wasn’t guarding a lost wallet. He was waiting beside the last thing his owner had left behind…

The woman who answered sounded like she had been crying all morning.

When I told her I had Walter’s wallet, she fell completely silent.

Then she asked only one question.

“Where is Bo?”

I looked at the dog.

The way he kept staring at the road.

The way his body tensed at every white SUV, even for a second.

“He’s here,” I said slowly. “He’s barely moving.”

On the other end of the line, her voice broke.

“Oh no…” she whispered. “No, no, no…”